The Spirit Of Beliving
by Never Believe the Believable
Summary: Abigail does not believe in Santa. What happens when she decides to stay up to catch him in the act? Will he change her mind about Santa Claus? Christmas Special


******Hey! This was actually a present for my parents for Christmas. They said they loved it, so I thought maybe you'd like it. By the way, the poem part is mine (definitely not my best, but still).**

**Merry Christmas!!!**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Santa, but I do own Abigail and this story's plot.

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**The Spirit of Believing**

_Now that Christmas is here, _

_Joy will spread to all who are near._

_Smiles will be bright and eyes will shine,_

_Not unlike the lights of a Christmas tree._

_Up where the snow falls throughout the year,_

_Little elves are hard at work,_

_Making toys for children around the world._

_Though, in a little house far in the busy cities,_

_A little girl with locks of gold and eyes of the sky,_

_Does not believe,_

_She does not believe in the magic of Christmas,_

_The magic of Santa Claus._

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Many say that good old Saint Nick is a legend, a myth. But do you know the real story?

In a small house deep in the city of New York, there sat a young three year old with long, curly golden hair and deep blue eyes. She wore a light, baby pink, sleeveless nightgown with little flowers along the hem and her name, Abigail, stitched on the front of the gown. She was also clutching a brown teddy bear in her small hands, which she named Annie. She was waiting, simply waiting. It was about ten o'clock, several hours past her bedtime. Yet, Abigail had quietly snuck down the stairs and made her way to sit on the carpet in front of her large, burning fireplace. She knew she was not supposed to be up at this time, but her curiosity about this old man in a red suit had gotten the better of her.

Her mother had told her many Christmas stories including the old, jolly man. According to her mother, he wore a red suit and a red Christmas hat, as well as black boots. He had a long white beard and white hair. His cheeks were a rosy pink and his blue eyes were always sparkling. He worked with elves in the North Pole, had reindeer and delivered presents to all the little boys and girls, like her, on Christmas Eve in his sleigh. The only thing is that he only comes when the children are asleep.

She was determined to meet him in person, even if it meant staying up all night. She wanted to see if he was real. Her friends had said that he was definitely real, but she thought it was impossible for someone to give gifts to EVERYONE in the world in only one night. She had to know the truth. That is why she is up so late; she wants to see if he will come or not.

It had been several hours and sleep started to overcome her, when she heard a soft thud, like something had landed on the roof. Abigail rushed to the large living room window. Unfortunately, all she saw was fluffy, white snow falling to the ground. She hurried to the front door, threw on her little pink coat and quickly put on her white boots and rushed out the front door to look at the top of the house. The second after she turned around to look, her eyes widened in disbelief and awe.

There, on her rooftop, was a big, red sleigh with nine reindeer leading it. Climbing out of the sleigh was an old man with the exact same description as the one her mother had told her, from the Christmas hat on his head to the black boots on his feet. Carefully, the man they called Santa lifted the giant red sack from his sleigh and dived into the chimney.

The little girl hurried into her house once more, took off all her outdoor clothes and quietly peaked into the living room. Soon, she saw Santa land swiftly on the floor of the fireplace; he ducked his head under the fireplace and stood up beside the large, brightly lit Christmas tree. Abigail pouted, slightly. This had to be a joke; maybe she was seeing things.

Slowly, he placed his huge sack on the carpet and started digging for, what the little girl assumed was, a present. After seeming to find what he was looking for, Santa bent down and placed a small gift under the tree, beside many other presents that were there before. Satisfied, he stood up, grabbed his sack and was about to climb up the chimney again, when he did something that surprised the little girl. He spoke.

"Should you not be in bed, Abigail?" he asked in a calm, gentle voice.

Abigail jumped when she heard the voice. How did he know her name? How did he know she was there? She thought she had made sure not to make a sound.

Slowly stepping forward into plain view, she stuttered, "Well…um…"

"You were curious to see if I was real?" he suggested with a small smile forming on his face.

Abigail's eyes widened, she was starting to get nervous with all the correct assumptions from the stranger. "Um…Kind of," she answered at last.

Santa calmly walked across the room to where Abigail stood and knelt on one knee in front of her. He gave her a warm, gentle smile as he asked her to continue wit her explanation.

"Um…well, my friends all said that you were real," came Abigail's timid voice, "Mommy also told me stories about you making toys in the North Pole and bringing them to every kid in the world in a red sleigh, but I don't think it's…it's…um..."

"Possible?" the jolly old man helpfully suggested.

"Yea…P-possible," Abigail stuttered as she tried to pronouns the new word.

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_What will change her mind?_

_Who will change her mind?_

_If there is something that would change the mind of this child,_

_Would it be the source of magic, himself?_

_Will he succeed,_

_Or fail?_

_Let us hope the Spirit of Believing will find her._

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"Well, Abigail," started Santa, "I must admit, it _does _sound a little odd, doesn't it? Yet who do you think puts the presents under your tree every year?"

" Sarah and Nicholas said that Mommy and Daddy put the presents under the tree," Abigail explained. After a brief pause, she added, "Sarah and Nicholas are my older brother and sister."

Santa gave a soft chuckle, "They are right, in a way. Your parents do put presents under the tree for you three, but I give children much more then the present they have asked for."

Abigail blinked, confused at what the rosy-cheeked man said. What could he mean? Her mother had never told her about Santa giving anything but presents. Was there something her mother did not tell her?

Santa smiled at the little girl's confusion, "I give them joy. I also give them the Spirit of Believing."

"…Spirit of Believing?" asked Abigail.

"Yes, the Spirit of Believing," concluded Santa, "The Spirit of Believing is when a child would believe in something that adults can not. For instance, magic. Most adults do not believe in magic, but children all over the world do. The children take great joy in believing in magic and elves and reindeer. For every child that believes in me, the power of my existence grows. As well as, for every child who does _not_ believe in me, my powers fade. Do you understand?"

Abigail stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing the new information. Yet there was one thing that bothered her.

"If you need everyone to believe in you," Abigail started, "then why do you make sure to not be seen by any of the kids or the mommies and daddies?"

Santa paused, before answering her question, "I do not want to _make_ them believe in Santa Claus. That would, in a way, defeat the purpose of the Spirit of Believing. The whole point of the Spirit of Believing is that the children believe in me on their own, even if they have only heard stories of me. Adults are unable to do that because as you grow older, it is harder for them to believe something is true without seeing it. Though, children believe in anything that they think should be real. That is the purpose of the Spirit of Believing."

Abigail nodded in understanding, "Then why do you give presents?"

"To remind them that their fantasy of me still exists. It is their choice to believe that the presents are from me, or if they are from their parents," answered Santa.

Abigail smiled. She was starting to understand everything. She was also starting to believe that everything that Santa said was true. Her eyes brightened with joy, she believed.

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_Joy has come back to the child's eyes,_

_The twinkle in Santa's eyes has grown brighter._

_The little girl can now rest,_

_Knowing that the tale is real,_

_And will forever stay alive._

_She will continue to believe 'till she no longer can,_

_For the Spirit of Believing has indeed found her._

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**Well? Do you like it? I hope so. Review please!!**


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